Chapter 1

In my past life, I hit the jackpot―a hundred million dollars. But my mother, a woman who lived only to bleed our family dry for her brothers, conspired with my nana to steal every cent. They handed it over to my two uncles.

When my father was diagnosed with cancer and desperately needed those funds for treatment, they used my money to buy luxury condos and flashy cars for their own children. They didn't spare a dime for his medical bills.

When my nana overheard me planning to go to the police, she ordered my uncles to drag me into the hospital room. They strangled me to death while my father watched, helpless and broken.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment the winning numbers were announced.

1

"Elara, did you win or what?" My mother's cold, impatient voice cut through the air from the kitchen.

I stared at the television screen, then at my ticket. The numbers matched perfectly. I had been reborn.

My mother stomped out, carrying a plate of pot roast I hated, and shot me a venomous look. "Are you deaf? I asked you a question."

Her expression of pure disgust was hauntingly familiar.

Ever since I was born, she had treated me like a burden, while her brothers' children were her golden idols. When my father got his end-of-year bonus, she would sooner buy her niece a designer coat than spend a penny on me.

Every winter, I had to wear a thin, frayed parka.

My father, heartbroken for me, once borrowed money to buy me a cheap crimson parka. She screamed at him until he was hoarse, calling him a pathetic loser and telling him he deserved to rot in hell for wasting money.

Looking at her hateful stare, I quickly shoved the ticket into my pocket. "No. I didn't win a single thing."

"Useless, just like your father. All you ever do is burn through money," she spat.

"Burn through money? You've never paid for a single tutor or hobby class for me. Every cent goes to your nieces and nephews for their piano and dance lessons. How is buying one lottery ticket wasting money?"

"How dare you snap at me!" She flew into a rage. "Your cousins are miles smarter than you. Giving you money is just pouring it down the drain."

Seeing her true colors, I knew she had never loved me.

In my past life, when I saw my uncles choking the life out of me, she had just stood there with her arms crossed. Her face was as cold and detached as a stranger's, and that image had frozen my heart solid.

As I reached for the dinner table, she grabbed a large bowl and scraped more than half the pot roast into it.

"Where are you taking that?" I asked.

"You've lost your mind today, haven't you?"

She raised her hand to strike me, but I didn't flinch. Fear no longer had a hold on me.

"If you take all of that, there won't be enough for Dad and me."

"Always hungry, aren't you? I'm taking this to my brother. You and your loser of a father can just go hungry."

"Why do you keep calling Dad a loser? He's the one who's sacrificed everything to keep your family afloat all these years."

She froze, stunned by my defiance.

She gave me a shifty, guilty glare before grabbing the bowl and storming out.

With the winning ticket tucked into my purse, I felt a heavy, bittersweet ache settle in my chest. I knew exactly what had to be done. The next day, I slipped out while she was gone to claim the prize.

I opened several accounts at different banks, splitting the funds to keep them secure.

When I got home, I placed a debit card with a hundred thousand dollars on the table. "I won the lottery. A hundred thousand."

My father touched my hair with a warm smile. "My little girl always had a lucky streak. Let's go out and celebrate tonight."

I glanced at my mother, who was staring at the card with a hungry, calculated look in her eyes. "I've already made plans for the money. Dad, you're always exhausted from taking the bus to work. I'm buying you a car. As for the rest, I'm putting it toward a down payment on a place of my own. It'll be my pre-marital asset, just in case."

I stated my plans clearly in front of both of them.

My father nodded eagerly, full of pride.

My mother, however, snapped, "Absolutely not!"

"Honey, I think this is a great plan," my father said. "We never had the money to help her with a house. This is perfect."

"What does a girl need a house for? She's going to get married eventually anyway. Caleb is turning eighteen this year. I think we should use that money to buy him a condo."

Caleb was my uncle's son.

He was the apple of my mother's and nana's eyes.

"It's my lottery money. Why should I buy Caleb a condo instead of a place for myself?"

I challenged her.

"Who do you think you are, deciding how that money is spent? I raised you, and that's cost me way more than a hundred thousand! You have no say in this."

She was doing it again―using her aggression to force us into submission.

My father had always been soft, choosing to yield to keep the peace. He used to tell me to just give in, too.

But this life? I was done surrendering.

"It's my ticket, my win, and my money. Why shouldn't I have the final say?"

"You've spent more on Caleb his whole life than you ever spent on me. When I was born, you dumped me at Grandma's house and never looked back. She raised me. You were too busy doting on Caleb and Chloe."

"And the second Caleb hit middle school and your brother didn't need you to babysit anymore, you kicked Grandma to the curb."

My mother's face flushed with a mix of shame and rage.

She clutched her chest, performing her usual routine, pretending to have a health crisis to manipulate us.

In the past, this was how she tricked me into giving her the bank passwords.

But I knew the truth―she was perfectly healthy.

My father, panicked, rushed to comfort her and turned to scold me.

I realized I had to wake him up, and soon.

"The card stays with me, and I'm the only one who knows the PIN. The money goes where I say it goes."

I turned and slammed my door shut.

Behind me, I could hear her screaming curses.

"You little brat! I regret the day I brought you into this world!"

My father tried to soothe her, but she just turned her vitriol on him. "I was blind when I married a loser like you!"

She had called him that for years.

But when they were young, my father's family had actually been much wealthier than hers.

Nana had insisted she marry him because of his prospects, and Dad had fallen for her at first sight.

In the end, it was Nana who pushed them together.